Chapter 32 #2
A low growl rumbles nearby, and I’m lifted from my seat.
Warmth envelops me as Revyn plants me in his lap and holds me in place, trapping me beneath his muscled arms. “You are not doing this here,” he rasps, the stubble on his cheek scratching the curve of my neck.
I shiver as heat races down my spine, and he exhales harshly in my ear.
“Calm down, Sienna. We’re—” His throat clicks on a swallow. “—gathering too much attention.”
Reaching behind me, I thread my fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. “You’ve never minded an audience.”
He buries his face in my neck and curses under his breath, readjusting my position in his lap so that I can feel every rigid inch of him. “Baby . . .” His teeth scrape my neck. “Say when.”
The room falls silent as a shadow falls over us. I force myself to focus on the present and not the massive bulge pressing into my ass—and hold back a scream.
Graham’s dismembered head is hovering in front of my face.
Cara does scream, the sound echoing off the walls as she falls out of her seat.
“No! Graham!” A sob wracks her body, and she collapses in a heap on the floor.
“I’m so sorry, baby.” But her mood shifts instantly, and she turns a fiery glare on me.
“You!” Pushing herself to her feet, she launches at me.
“This is your fault, you fucking wild bitch! You killed him!”
The room tilts as shadows wrap around us, pulling Clara and me apart and separating us from the rest of our groups.
We’re held in the air to watch the holo-view of our encounter at the shrine in the woods play for the entire class.
Clara’s tears are silent, but her body won’t stop shaking.
The lust in my system quickly turns into fuel for my rage, and I shake harder than she does.
My brawl with Graham is glossed over to highlight his death, the crack of his frozen body echoing in the concave lecture hall.
Murmurs erupt as students witness the same horrors we did, with the bears from Graham’s pack vibrating in rage. I grab the shadows holding me in the air, but they turn to smoke the moment I gain any traction, reforming the second my body passes through and gripping me even tighter.
Revyn and the others aren’t faring much better; every single one of them has been bound to their seats, including poor Marick who can’t seem to catch a break.
The boy has frozen solid, ice magic slowly spreading from his body and creating ice crystals in the air.
A witch sitting behind him holds her hand out and blasts hot air to counteract the effects, her face pulled into a grimace as the ice begins to melt.
I feel dozens of eyes locked onto me, however, and clench my jaw.
Graham’s death shouldn’t be a spectacle.
“What are we supposed to learn from this?” I call out, glaring daggers at our dear professor.
“That violence begets violence? That our professor is a cruel fucking bastard who can’t be bothered to properly warn his students of the dangers—” A shadow bands around my mouth, but it’s the one curling around my throat that worries me.
It constricts my airway just enough to make me dizzy and my throat burn.
Fuck Professor Aesir.
With a dramatic wave of his hand, Aesir dismisses the holo-feed and drags his gaze along the student body. “Tell me, what was Graham’s first error?”
Someone in the front row readily answers. “Approaching the shrine without caution.”
Aesir nods. “Those of you who made it to the shrine should have noticed the temperature difference in the clearing as well as the state of the artifacts lining the stairs. They were especially fragile due to the nature of their environment and broke easily, as a few of you noticed upon collecting them. What else?”
One by one, students begin dissecting Graham’s final moments—and my contribution to his death—with microscopic precision, their various backgrounds and fluencies translating into a colorful array of feedback that does nothing to quell my anger.
We’re being used as instruments of instruction, and it feels wrong to diminish Graham’s death into little more than a play-by-play.
Cara trembles as she listens, her tears drying up but her gaze turning glossy. She won’t last the night if she’s thrown into another training session, especially after a day full of lectures . . . or reminders of Graham. His voice will be an echo in her head wherever she goes.
Despite how little I know about Cara, I feel for her. Losing someone you care about is never easy.
Losing a potential mate is even harder.
My heart goes out to her.
The lesson continues, quickly turning into a Q&A session where Aesir questions students’ motives in their attack methods and points out flaws in their execution.
Then he suggests alterations in attack patterns and group formations, going so far as to emphasize various talents and magics that were underutilized or improperly cast. Even the three witches who charmed Graham into their puppet are criticized for focusing too much on their offense and leaving their flank undefended.
On and on it goes, and my anger seeps out the longer I’m suspended in midair.
Professor Aesir may be harsh with his methods, but he’s calculating and fierce in his own way. I can understand why he was assigned as our instructor . . . begrudgingly.
In order to survive, we have to be stronger than we are today.
As the hour comes to a close, Aesir closes the lesson with a still image of Graham’s frozen body, his figure misshapen on account of the shift he failed to complete.
It’s a grotesque reminder of both the power one wields and its fragility if not wielded properly.
A few shifters in the crowd flinch and look away, with more than a few of the other magical races gaping at the image.
It’s not often that shifters are caught mid-stride, and Graham suffered an unusually cruel fate.
His pack will be mourning their loss through the next moon cycle.
After a brief moment of silence, Aesir waves away the projection.
“I do not show you these moments of weakness in cruelty.” Hooking his arms behind his back, he levels me with a stern look.
“Nor do I blame you for your failures. But it is through failure that we learn—that we grow—and we must take each opportunity to improve our abilities and sharpen our minds, or we will end up like all the others who came before us . . . Dead.” He stands perfectly still, embodying the essence of what it means to be a member of the unliving.
Silence fills the room as his words sink in with enough melancholy to drown a gryphon.
“Take this as a hard-earned lesson,” Aesir continues. “Trust your teammates. Follow your instincts. And if something appears too good to be true . . . It may be the instrument of your undoing.”
My heart clenches, its beat turning erratic as I think of my past with Revyn.
Most of it felt perfect—up until the moment I found out he’d been lying to me about our prospects of joining a pack.
My face flushes with a wave of humiliation I’ve longed to leave behind.
To approach dozens of packs and present myself as a viable member, only to be turned down time and time again .
. . I swallow past the lump in my throat.
I threw myself at as many Alphas as we could find, and Revyn let me, knowing full well that it was futile.
Pretending that everything was okay as he wiped away my tears and took me to bed over and over and over again . . .
The betrayal stings, the scars around my heart tearing.
And yet, Revyn needs me.
He needs me to mate with him or he may not live to see next winter.
Aesir’s shadows slide over my skin, cold and elusive, as they lower me back to my seat and slip away, returning to their original state as tricks of the light. I hardly notice, too wrapped up in my own thoughts to care about much else. Revyn’s hand finds mine, squeezing gently, and I hold on tight.
Despite everything we’ve been through—the good and the bad—I’m not ready to let him go.
When I mentally repeat my mantra, the phrasing has altered, and it’s Callum’s voice that whispers through my mind, not mine.
You deserve more than he’s able to give you.
Revyn. Callum. Alistair.
Three pieces to a puzzle whose final image is unclear. I don’t know how we fit together—if at all—and it makes my head spin. I don’t hear Aesir’s parting words of wisdom for the class, merely his dismissal.
“Those of you who wish for a more thorough review of your performance, you may stay for additional feedback. Otherwise, you are all dismissed.”
A rumble of chatter erupts as students gather their weary bones and head for the exit. Aesir’s voice projects over the din to remind us of our continued training tonight at dusk. “Anyone who is late will be summarily removed from my classes and thusly expelled.”
Everything feels trivial in the wake of life or death situations.
The academy.
Our class rank.
What I envision for my future.
I don’t have answers, and I barely have a sense of direction, but what I do have is determination to find a solution. One that saves Revyn from himself, me from my reckless choices, and the others from their own demons dragging them into early graves.
Surely if we work together, we can untangle this mess . . . one problem at a time, starting with purifying the rot from my lover’s heart.
Pressing a chaste kiss to Revyn’s cheek, I blow out a long breath. “Meet me in my room?”
His eyes flash silver as he cups my jaw and traces the bow of my lips with the pad of his thumb. “Anything you want, baby. I’m yours.”